Ranger 7 Point 0
by One Ranger
Summary: Ranger and Steph are finally headed in the right direction. Leave it to Diesel to screw it up. Or does he? A BABE story. NOW COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **This is just a crazy little idea we had. It's labeled romance, though maybe it's not your typical romance. It has a little Diesel, but it's _not_ a Diesel fic—it's very much Babe. And some might consider it AU … but it's not _that_ AU if you read JE's 'Between the Numbers' books. Whatever it is, we hope you enjoy it!

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**Ranger 7.0**

The alarm went off at eight, though I couldn't remember why I'd set it. After a night like I'd had -- which had involved a skip that had dragged me through the mud for an entire city block before I'd tagged his ass, a pocket call from my grandma's cell where I could hear my grandma yelling "harder, Bernard, harder", and a message from Joe saying he was back in town, I needed sleep.

Or caffeine.

Bad.

I also needed a donut, but I'd given them up. Most of the time I was good with the changes I'd made to my life since Joe and I had taken a break three months ago. But once in awhile, like now, I'd give my right nipple for a donut.

I'd give up both for sex.

At the thought, an involuntary smile crossed my face. I had a feeling I was very close to getting some. Since I'd begun hitting the gun range weekly and taking self defense classes at a local martial arts school, there'd been a definite change in the way Ranger looked at me.

Oh, the playfulness was still there. The stolen kisses in the alley, the touches meant to ignite. But now there was something more.

It was in his molten chocolate eyes, the sense that he was looking at me differently. And then there'd been the phone calls just to say hi. And at least every few days, he grabbed me and took me for lunch or dinner. Last night, he'd even watched The Ugly Truth with me on DVD. He'd laughed at the "flick the bean" line and sent me a searing gaze, leaning in to put his mouth to my ear. "Do you flick the bean, Babe?"

I had last night. Twice.

Truth was, I had no idea what was happening between us, but I was definitely on board for the ride. And maybe, somehow, I'd get the balls to tell him how I felt about him, how I'd felt about him for years.

I was searching all the drawers for the coffee filter, bending low to do it, when I smelled cookies and Christmas, and heard a very male growl of appreciation. Oh, no. _Hell_, no. Straightening, I turned and came face to face with – no surprise – Diesel.

What _was_ a surprise was the small boy next to him. Diesel was covering the kid's eyes with one big hand and grinning broadly, reminding me I'd just gotten out of bed and wore only one of Ranger's black t-shirts, which I'd stolen out of his closet, and a thong.

"Nice," Diesel said, tightening his grip on the boy. "Real nice. Victoria Secret, fall catalog, page twenty."

I stared at him, tugging the hem of my shirt down. "What are you doing here? It's not Christmas—No." I shook my head violently. "Whatever it is, whatever you need, no. Every time you show up, my life turns into a living hell."

"Cutie Pie, your life is a living hell all on its own. And I'm only here for a teeny, tiny little favor. I just need you to… uh …" He turned the kid away from me before removing his hand from his eyes and nudging him toward the bathroom. "Give us a minute, Kid. And remember to use BOTH hands this time."

When we heard the door shut, Diesel's easy smile vanished. "Look, I just need you to baby-sit for an hour tops."

Tall, built like a linebacker turned surfer, Diesel was blonde and gorgeous and had a smile that could charm the granny panties off a nun.

But not me. "I don't baby-sit."

"I'll pay you."

"With what, Christmas cookies?"

Diesel seemed to think about that for a moment and then I saw that damn twinkle in his eyes. "Sex?" he asked hopefully.

My eyes narrowed to slits.

"Cookies and sex?" he offered.

Hmm. It _had _been a long time … I shook my head to clear it. "No."

Diesel blew out a sigh. "Look, we don't really have time to barter right now." He dug in his pockets and pulled out three matchbox cars, a handful of green army men, some string and two small rocks. Leaning across me, he placed them on the counter.

I eyed the pile and said, "What? No snips? No snails?"

Diesel smiled fleetingly before his face got serious, which was kinda scary because Diesel doesn't pull off serious very well. He said, "There's been a … teeny little temporary glitch with the spsstmmctinumnmmmm."

"I'm sorry, I didn't catch that last part."

He looked up at the ceiling and rubbed at his jaw, his overgrown whiskers making rasping noises against his calloused hand. He sighed, "Space/Time Continuum."

Arms crossed over my chest, I leaned my rump against the counter. "Uh-huh."

"Steph, it happens."

Of course it does.

Just then we heard the toilet flush and the bathroom door open.

Diesel hollered, "Wash your hands!"

We both heard a very put-upon sigh echo down the short hall. When the water cut on, I said, "So just an hour."

Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Diesel looked at the floor, unwilling to hold my gaze.

"Oh, come on! I have to work today."

The boy shuffled down the hall and came just to the edge of the kitchen. He, too, was looking at his feet. I took a moment to study him. He was reed thin and looked to be somewhere between six and eight. By his coloring, I'd guess he was Hispanic. His hair was silky and long and somewhere between rich dark brown and black, and though his hair was covering half his face, I could see from his bone structure that he was a striking young child, almost pretty.

He seemed shy, so I just blurted, "I'm Stephanie. What's your name?"

The child looked up and I felt like I'd just taken a round to the gut. His coloring wasn't just Hispanic. It was mocha latte. His bone structure was beyond familiar. And his eyes, God help me, his eyes were soft chocolate pools almost as familiar to me as my own.

He looked just like Ranger.

Inexplicably, I felt tears prickle behind my eyes. Did Ranger have another child he never told me about? What was Ranger's relationship to _his_ mother? For God's sake, he told me about Julie long before we'd ever become lovers. Why would he hold back on telling me about _this_ child?

I thought he trusted me.

I don't know if it was his supernatural abilities, or more likely, my inability to keep my thoughts from my face, but Diesel seemed to know exactly when my thoughts had careened into dangerously incorrect territories.

Diesel scooped the army men off the counter and handed them to the boy, then told him to make himself comfy on the sofa.

Stepping back to me, he tugged at my wrist and said quietly, "_Not_ his son."

I blinked up at Diesel, ignoring the fact that the action released a tear. "He's not?" I croaked.

He shook his head slowly.

I felt the knot in my chest unravel a little.

"His nephew?"

"Bzzzt."

I snorted and wiped at my face. "I thought you were in a hurry. Just tell me who he is already."

Putting his hands on my shoulders, he bent at the knees and looked me dead in the eyes. "Ricardo Carlos Manoso, version 7.0."

And this is the part where I tell you that my vision got fuzzy and little black dots danced in front of my eyes, but quite frankly, I fainted before any of that could happen.

I came awake to utter panic as thoughts jumbled for attention in my brain. Diesel. Babysitting …

Ranger—

Maybe it was all a bad dream. Yeah, that was it. A really bad dream brought on by a decided lack of sex. But when I opened my eyes, things were still dark.

Crap. I'd put myself into a coma.

Then suddenly the darkness lifted and fathomless dark eyes in a drawn, worried little face filled my vision.

Ranger, version 7.0.

He was holding a cool washcloth, which he'd clearly been using on my forehead. Even as a child, Ranger took care of me. I felt my throat tighten at the thought.

He took my hand and tried to pull me up, which I thought was incredibly sweet. "Thank you," I started, stopping when he let go of my hand as quick as possible and peered behind me, anxiously gathering up …

Army men. I'd been lying on his army men. "Sorry."

"They're okay," he said with relief and I bit back my smile. Ranger, worried about his men. Shock. "Where's Diesel?" I asked.

He lifted a bony shoulder. "Said he had to pop out."

Terrific. If he'd left me alone with a regular kid, I'd have been freaking out. But this was no regular kid, it was Batman, minus twenty-three years, and it was beyond my comprehension. _A small glitch in the space/time continuum?_ I had no idea what that even meant!

Ranger 7.0 was shifting uncomfortably, staring at me while pretending not to. His straight nearly black hair was falling into his eyes and he shoved it back like it irritated him.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"I'm not the one who fainted."

His voice was a little boy's voice, not a man's, and the accent was a little thicker, but he sounded so much like Ranger that my heart ached. "I don't usually faint," I said. "I—I was startled."

"Because of me." His beautiful eyes were mistrustful, but he lifted his chin, already getting a good head start on the shielding of his emotions that his older self would have in spades.

"No," I started, but he met my gaze straight on, trying to be brave, though he was clearly scared and confused. "Do you know where you are?"

"No." He looked down at his army men clutched in his hand. "I don't remember getting here."

My heart tightened at the fear he was struggling so hard with. "Ranger— "

"Ranger?"

Mental head slap for the slip-up. This little boy, Ricardo Carlos Manoso from Newark, had no idea who 'Ranger' was; he was simply seven-year-old Carlos. "Not important," I said.

He shoved his hands in his pockets and hunched his narrow shoulders. "I want to go home now."

"Soon," I said, and hoped to God that was true. "You hungry?"

He nodded, and we went into the kitchen where I made a grilled cheese sandwich with peanut butter. Hey, it worked for me when I was stressed out.

But he just stared at it.

"It's good," I said.

"Do you have an apple? Or a salad?"

I resisted the urge to thunk my head on the counter. "We'll go to the store, but this is it for now."

"'Kay. Do you have marshmallows?"

Well, apparently he did have some normal in him. "Yes. Marshmallows are a staple." I leaned in close to give him a handful and his gaze slid to my breasts, not exactly encumbered in Ranger's loose t-shirt and no bra. He blushed.

I sighed. "How old are you, seven?"

"And a half," he said very seriously. "Almost three quarters."

I couldn't hold in the smile, which faded quick enough when the locks tumbled, and in walked … Joe.

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TBC...


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **So glad you guys seem to enjoy our unusual storyline. It makes us happy that you appreciate our weirdness. ;) The story is outlined as having four chapters ... so now we're halfway there! And YES, Ranger will not only make an appearance in the story, but he WILL meet little Carlos. We promise!

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**Chapter 2**

"Hey Cupcake, the boys…" Joe's charming greeting trailed off as his eyes flicked back and forth between little Carlos and me. Then he frowned at my outfit. Or lack thereof. Yanking the shirt down, I looked back at Joe only to realize my young charge had taken a defensive position between us.

Which was kind of adorable, though Joe looked monumentally unimpressed. Hands on his hips, he studied the boy. Hard.

Never taking his eyes off Carlos, he asked, "Steph, what the fu—heck is going on?"

I had nothing to say to this since I had no idea myself.

Shuffling past Bat Boy, I headed toward my room for my bra, a pair of jeans and some much-needed hair taming. I was about to order the two of them to behave, but when I looked over my shoulder to do so, I saw two sets of brown eyes glued to my ass.

Doesn't matter how old they are. All males are the same.

When I came back out, High Noon was in full swing. Carlos was leaning casually on one side of the breakfast bar, slowly rolling a tiny black Porsche back and forth across my countertop, his fathomless black eyes locked unapologetically on Joe. Joe had his ass propped against the kitchen table, ankles crossed and his thumbs hooked into the front pockets of his jeans. Total cop face. The vibe he was throwing off fairly shouted _I'm a big scary cop. I've got your number kid, you'd better watch your step._

Yeesh.

I walked over to Joe holding out my hand. He cocked a brow.

"My key, Joe."

"Cupcake-"

Carlos gave up any pretense of playing with his car. "Her name's _Stephanie_," he told Joe as he folded his twig-like arms over his decidedly bony chest. Crapity-crap. It seemed that Ranger was just naturally adept at antagonizing Joe. He had mad skills, this boy.

"And what's your name, son?"

Little Ranger tilted his chin up and said, "Ricar-"

I blurted, "Carlos! His name is Carlos. He's, uh, Ranger's nephew and Ranger got a little tied up in, uh, something and so I'm just watching him for today."

Joe snorted. "You're still a terrible liar, Steph."

"Who me?"

Joe shook his head and studied his shoes. I always wondered what he saw there. The answers to the universe? Pizza sauce from Pino's? The wherewithal not to throttle me?

Lowering his voice, Joe said, "You know _every time_ you get involved in one of Ranger's schemes, you get hurt."

"That's not true."

"It is."

"He's my friend."

"He's a psycho!"

I winced, knowing he wasn't doing a very good job keeping his voice down.

Holding my hand out again, I said, "My key."

He tried to give me his super sexy Italian movie star/hangdog face, but I was having none of it.

"Cupcake-"

"Joe. I think it's done."

"What do you mean _it's done_?"

We both heard the atonal beeps of a cell phone's digits being pressed. Turning, I saw that Carlos had found my phone on the counter and he was studying it with fascination.

"Honey, don't call anyone right now." I mentally cringed when I realized I'd called Ranger _honey_. Which was silly. It's not like this forty-five pound first grader had the capability to send me to Yemen.

One of Carlos' little brows went up. "This is a real phone?" He flipped it over in his hand, examining it. I could see his little Bat Brain working. _Very small. Portable. Not plugged into the wall, no tangled up cord…_

Crap. This was like Back to the Future. I was pretty sure I shouldn't be letting him see things that didn't exist in his world yet.

I sure as Hell hoped that Diesel found the Flux Capacitor long before Carlos got a gander at my laptop. I truly believe the only reason he wasn't asking more questions is because my apartment itself hadn't been renovated since 1979. Thank Christ for my green and orange bathroom and my vinyl and Formica laden kitchen.

I didn't have the heart to take the phone away from him. I thought about telling him not to press send, but if I knew anything about boys, I knew this would only make the send key more alluring. Better to leave him in the dark. Instead I told him, "Just don't dial 911."

The devil gleamed in Carlos' eyes. "What'll happen?"

"Very bad things," was Joe's answer.

"Okay," I said, and gave Joe the bum's rush to the front door. "You have got to go. Now." When we were out of sight of the kid, I whispered, "I'm sorry, but I sort of have my hands full here."

Joe pressed me against the wall, making sure there were no spaces between us, and slid his hands down my body to cup my ass. "I have my hands full too."

"I want my key back, Joe."

"Come on, Cupcake. I know you've missed the boys."

Uhn! I grabbed his keys and worked mine off his key ring. Looking over my shoulder, I saw that Little Ranger had stopped playing with my phone, had come around the corner, and was giving Joe a scarily accurate version of the blank face that his older self had perfected.

Joe opened his mouth but I shoved him out and closed the door. Then leaned my head against the wood and wished for …

Ranger.

"Who was that Joe guy?" Carlos asked.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I had to let out a low laugh. I could wish for Ranger all I want, the truth was he was standing right behind me. Taking a deep breath, I turned to face the young version of the man I loved. "A friend."

"He didn't touch you like a friend."

No kidding.

"Does Joe know you're friends with this Ranger guy?"

"Yes."

"Then why does he talk bad about him? My mama says if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all."

I stared at him, biting back a half hysterical laugh. Joe had never had a problem bad-mouthing Ranger. Ranger, on the other hand, always said things like "Morelli's a good guy with a sucky job" or "He loves you, babe". Sure, he wasn't above hearing about when Joe was pissed, and he might also enjoy antagonizing Joe whenever possible, but Ranger never bad-mouthed Joe to me.

Not once.

"Field trip," I decided, and grabbed my purse.

"You taking me home?" he asked hopefully, a forcible reminder of exactly how young he was. And lost.

"Soon." I hoped. God. I had no idea what I was doing here. I took my phone back and ran my thumb over the number one key. I wanted to talk to Ranger so bad I was shaking with it. Finally, I just hit the speed dial and held my breath.

He didn't answer. I left a brief message: "Yo, Batman. Call me." Shutting the phone, I stood there in indecision. When Ranger was in town, he always picked up to me, always. And if he couldn't, he called me right back.

But this time, the phone remained silent, ominously so.

I didn't realize I was standing there in la-la land until I felt a small, warm hand on mine. My eyes met Carlos's very dark, concerned ones.

"You're worried," he said.

"Who, me?" Yes. So damn worried. "I never worry. Come on, I'll buy you a Tastycake."

"What's a Tastycake?"

"Heaven on earth." I drove us to the bonds office. Carlos remained silent as he took in what he must have considered very strange scenery flying past the passenger window. Connie and Lulu both looked up as we walked in and eyed my hands, hopeful for a box from Tasty Pastry. But we'd eaten our bounty in the car. Carlos still had a few crumbs on his shirt.

Disappointed, the girls sighed in unison, then went still when they eyed the small, dark-haired boy at my side.

"Who's this?" Connie asked.

"Carlos," he said.

Thank God he was a quick study.

"Well, ain't you a hot one in the makin'," Lula said. "How you end up with our girl here?"

"I'm babysitting," I said, accepting a flat glare from Carlos, obviously objecting to the word 'babysitting'. I offered him a small, silent apology.

"You know," Lula said thoughtfully, cocking her head. "He look like a certain man in black …"

"He's Ranger's nephew." I winced, knowing that all the lies were adding up and I was going to be struck dead by God's lightning any minute. "Yeah, I'm …"

Carlos's dark gaze dared me to say 'babysitting' again.

"Just helping out," I finished.

The door opened behind us and in walked two huge men in Rangeman black, fully decked out in SWAT gear.

Tank and Lester.

"Rangeman files," Tank said to Connie in his usual Chatty Cathy manner.

Lester perched a lean hip on the edge of Connie's desk and sent Connie a slow smile. "What the big lug here means is can we please have Rangeman's files?" He turned his eyes on me. "Hey, Beautiful. Looking good."

"Are those real guns?"

Everyone looked at little Carlos, who was staring in awe at the two men and their utility belts.

Lester stood from the desk, unsnapped his holster and emptied the gun of bullets. Then he tugged a round-eyed Carlos over to the couch and began a lengthy and in depth analysis of the Sig Sauer's history and features. I squeaked, "I'm not sure you should-"

Lester grinned at me in the patronizing way of fathers the world over. The grin said, _Chill out little mama, this here is a man-to-man moment._

And so Carlos' love affair with guns begins.

This is not my fault.

Even though it is.

Tank cleared his throat pointedly, flicked his eyes to Carlos then back at me. "You sure you only met the Boss three years ago?"

We all looked back over towards the couch and saw that Lester was instructing Carlos how to grip the gun properly. Once he was satisfied with the boy's progress, Lester took the Sig Sauer back and showed Carlos the smaller gun strapped to his ankle and then the knife tucked into his opposite boot.

Fuck. Ranger's every reason for not being family material has just been born right before my eyes.

Stupid Lester.

Lula said, "Mmm. You gotta point, Tankie. That there boy look like he just fell offa Ranger." Turning back to me, she asked, "You been holding out on us, white girl? I'm thinkin' you been _all over_ that package for _years_ and you been keepin' it on the down-low an shit. Hmph."

Truth was, I had been all over that package for one spectacular night, a very long time ago. And I hoped to be all over that package again soon. I wanted to _own_ that package. The thirty year-old version. But there would be no impure thoughts about said package while its virginal child owner was in my presence. That would be ick.

I asked Tank, "Don't you think Ranger would have told you about a love-child?"

"Interesting choice of words, Bombshell."

"What else would you call it, er, _him_ … if he were, uh, Ranger's and mine? Which he's not," I hastened to add.

Connie ticked off, "Bastard, illegitimate child, by-blow-"

"You don't get no baby by _blowin_'. Even _I_ know that!" Lula exclaimed.

"By-blow is a term originated in the late 1500s," Connie shot back. When this comment was met with dead silence, Connie added, "What? I read a lot of historical romances."

And that was when my phone rang, thank you Jesus. I pulled it out of my pocket and nearly jumped for joy when I saw it was Ranger. Ducking outside, I answered. "It's about time you called me back."

"You sound a little crazy, Babe."

"I've had a Diesel experience."

His voice sounded a little tense when he said, "Explain."

God, I really love this man but sometimes Mr. One Word really needs a good smack.

Pushing my violent urges aside, I decided I needed to dip my toe into the waters of what Ranger knew and what he didn't know. But I had to be vague, crafty, a wordsmith of the highest order. "Riddle me this, Batman: How many of you do you think are walking around in the world right now?"

Dead silence, then a light puff of breath. The rare and often fabled Ranger sigh. "He brought the kid to you."

I decided to ignore his incredulous tone. Mostly. Surely he wasn't impugning my motherly nurturing instincts. I was a semi-decent hamster mommy, after all. At least I'd ascertained that he knew about the glitch.

Ranger wasn't one for beating around the bush so I plowed on. "Tank, Connie and Lula are all convinced that we have a secret love-child."

His voice got all low and smoky. "I could make that happen."

"Carlos!"

The only sound from his end was that of his eyebrow rising … if you could hear that sort of thing. "I mean, _Ranger_. I've been calling him Carlos. I'm confused. Where the hell are you?"

"Around."

"Ranger."

"Babe."

I might have made a small, frustrated shrieking noise into the phone.

He expelled another small breath. Two Ranger sighs in a row! I'd take an ad out in the paper but no one would believe me. "Babe, I can't risk the boy seeing me. We're working on fixing this-"

"By _we_ you mean…?"

Deep sigh this time. "Fuckin' Diesel."

I turned around to look back through the plate glass window into the office. Tank appeared to be getting his flirt on with Lula. Wonder what's up with that? Connie was painting her nails. Then I peered over at the couch. Lester was showing Carlos a magazine. Only he was holding in an up/down orientation and a long tri-fold page was extended down toward the floor. Carlos looked riveted.

"Oh, Christ."

"What now, Babe?"

"Lester's showing you porn."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **Thank you again for the warm response to our bizarre little story. ;) The final chapter is currently being tossed back and forth between us and will be posted as soon as we wrestle it into submission. In the meantime, we hope you enjoy this update!

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**Chapter 3**

"Listen, Babe, I need you to go back home. With … the boy."

"You mean _you_," I said. "The _you_ whom Lester is showing PORN. And given the way you're drooling, you like it, you perv. Aren't you too young to like women?"

"Babe."

"Let me repeat: _Lester's showing you porn_. And I have to tell you, I think your little deviant self was checking out my ta-tas this morning."

"Stephanie, focus."

My whole name. Which meant either he was feeling extremely sexual, or extremely irritated. One guess as to which one he was feeling right now. "Okay. I'll just focus in on the fact that the man I love is SEVEN YEARS OLD, and he just watched me break it off with Morelli for good, and—"

"_What_?"

"I said that your little ass self just watched me—"

"Before that," he said tightly.

Oh. Oh, shit. "Um, the weather in Bermuda is good this time of year?"

"Babe, we're going to circle back to this."

Uh oh. Batman sounded tense. Welcome to my club. "Okie Dokie."

"Go back to your apartment. Lock the door and don't let anyone in but Diesel."

"Or you," I corrected.

Silence.

"Ranger?" My heart skipped a beat and fell to my toes. I had a very very bad feeling that he was thinking maybe he wouldn't be coming for me.

Ever.

"Or you," I repeated softly, no longer playing, needing reassurance from the only man I've ever trusted to give it to me. "Right?"

"Babe. I promise you I plan to come back to you. Just do this. For me."

Oh, God, there was a terrifying quality to his voice. "But Ranger—"

"_Please_."

Fuck. The please. "Okay," I agreed, throat burning. "But I swear, if you don't come back from wherever the hell you are, I'm going to string you up by your—" I broke off at the tug on my shirt.

Ranger 7.0, looking up at me with those melting chocolate eyes.

"I want to go home now," he said.

"Tell him he's going to have to suck it up," Ranger said.

Ranger in stereo. "I'm dizzy," I whispered.

Ranger 7.0 immediately tugged me down to sit on the curb and put a hand on the back of my neck. "Push against my hand," he ordered in his little boy voice.

"Ranger," I managed to say. "This is too weird."

"Listen to me, Babe. I need you to do this. I need you to go now."

Nodding, I shut my phone and loaded us both into my car, and without saying good-bye to anyone in the office, headed out. In my parking lot, I took the last spot, by the dumpster. Nothing looked out of the ordinary but something in Ranger's voice made me hyperaware. "Stick close," I said, but Carlos was on my side like white on rice … Or brown on rice. The icky healthy brown rice that Ranger eats-- you know what, never mind.

Carlos was holding my hand.

I might have melted but there was a quality to him now too. This was more a stance of possession and protection than fear, and my heart squeezed. "We're okay," I told him.

"I know."

But he didn't let go of my hand, not until we got to my apartment. I pulled out my keys, opened the door, heard a funny zap, and it was lights out.

I came awake with one thought. Okay three.

Shit.

Fuck.

Damn.

I was on my couch. Given the feeling of rug burn on my back, I'm guessing I'd been dragged there. My head was on the balled up afghan. The dining room was a mess, chairs tipped over, pictures off the wall … and Carlos hovering over me, standing guard with my stun gun in one hand and my cell in the other. "Are you okay?" I demanded, sitting up too fast and having to stop to hold my head on my shoulders.

He nodded, eyes on the man in the center of my living room. Prone. He was unconscious and a mess. He had a bite mark on his face, and a gash where his head had clearly hit the table. I recognized the tall, beefy asshole as the skip that I'd chased to hell and back yesterday. "Carlos?"

His eyes were locked on the guy. "Yeah."

"How did he get like that?"

"I jumped on his back."

Of course he did.

I must have been giving him a look that said I needed elaboration. If he didn't understand the look, I'm thinking the wild 'out with it' hand gestures must have clued him in.

"He slammed me into that wall over there so I bit him really hard on the cheek. I learned that move from my cousin Eduardo-"

"And then what? You sprung off his back like a little ninja monkey and went all Matrix on his ass?"

He looked a little taken aback.

I really have to work on the verbal diarrhea thing. But not today. "Was it the obscure movie reference or the naughty word that stopped you?"

Carlos was staring at me as if he really liked me but couldn't for the life of him figure out why. Thirty year-old Carlos gave me that look _a lot_.

"So anyway," he continued, "he did most of the damage himself. He kept spinning around, ramming me into stuff, trying to knock me off. Probably 'cause I was eating his face."

Ugh. He said that last sentence with such pride.

"He musta tripped over that kitchen chair over there. When we fell, his head clipped the coffee table. He's been out cold ever since."

I looked at Carlos in horror. He just took down a man slightly smaller than Tank while I had been blissfully unconscious.

The boy must have misread my expression because he hastened to add, "I cleaned up the blood pretty good with paper towel but mama says blood stains are a bitch to get out of carpet."

"Hey."

One adorable little eyebrow went up.

"No swearing."

"You did."

Sigh.

The next thing I did was handcuff the intruder before calling Eddie for a pick-up. Good thing Eddie likes me because I was able to get him to bring us some Pino's at the same time. I had considered asking him to swing by Blockbuster for us as well but figured that might be pushing my luck.

Once Carlos finished his (blech) chopped salad, I convinced him to go take a shower. He came out ten minutes later wrapped from shoulders to toes in a big white towel, hair slicked back. The scent of Bulgari wafted up to me which sent my mind off on a brief 'chicken or the egg' paradox regarding body wash. He asked, "Should I just put my dirty clothes back on?"

Crap. "Yeah, I guess that's all you can do. You're too small-"

He stiffened at the direction of my statement. I guess he was a little sensitive about his stature. "Uh … _I'm_ too big. My clothes are too big and I only have girl stuff."

He nodded and looked to the floor. Blushing, he said, "My mama says you always should put on fresh, uh, underwear…"

"Just go commando."

"Commando."

"Without. Go without your underwear."

He seemed to think this was a fine idea and made his way back into the bathroom with a little strut in his step. Damn. Am I responsible for Ranger's adult commando status? Was Lester responsible for the two guns and a knife thing? Was today supposed to happen? Do I have a copy of Somewhere in Time I could watch tonight for research? Freaky Friday? Big? That animated episode of Star Trek where Spock meets child Spock?

I didn't, so a half an hour later we were watching Ghostbusters. Turns out he'd just seen it so we were safe. He seemed fascinated with the DVD and DVD player, but he kept his own council and asked no questions about the strange technology.

Thank Christ.

I startled awake when I felt his head tip against my shoulder. He didn't look like he weighed more than fifty pounds so I hauled him off the couch and carried him to the bedroom.

Believe me, the irony was not lost on me.

After draping the covers over him, I turned to leave the room. A small voice asked, "Miss Stephanie?"

"Yes?"

"Is it bed time?"

In his whispered question I heard what he wasn't saying. _Am I still stuck here? Am I going to be here forever?_

I came back over and sat on the bed near his hip. The light coming in through the doorway let me see his tired face, his brave eyes … the small quiver in his pouty lower lip.

Brushing his hair away from his face, I said, "You should get some sleep."

He bit that quivering lip and looked up at the ceiling, and from what I could tell he was trying hard not to cry. "I want to go home tomorrow."

He was a smart kid. Hell, he was a baby wizard. So I decided to tell him the truth. "We're doing everything we can to get you home. I promise."

"Who's we?"

"Me, my friend Diesel and my other friend Ranger."

"Is Ranger your boyfriend?" Was it me or did he sound a little jealous?

"What makes you ask that?"

He made a small shrug and said, "Everyone talks about him around you. You say his name all the time and when you do, your voice gets breathy and your eyes get all dopey." When I didn't respond, he added, "I have four sisters. Every one of them gets all dopey about the boys they love."

So how is it that seven year-old Batman can plainly see that I'm in love with Ranger and the thirty year old version remained clueless for three years? "You need to—"

"Go to sleep. I know."

His voice wavered and pretty much slashed my heart. I rose to go to the couch, got to the door, and looked back.

He lay there on the bed, looking so small, all scrunched up tight within himself.

I changed directions, went into my bathroom and snagged the nightlight there. Once upon a time, Ranger had used it to see me better as I lay in bed. Now I slid it into the same socket Ranger had and straightened. "Better?"

Carlos sent me a wobbly smile.

Caving like a cheap suitcase, I kissed his forehead before leaving him alone to wander through my apartment. Rex got a Fruit Loop and an olive, and then I straightened up a little, including lining up Carlos's army men on the TV.

And then found myself back in the doorway of my bedroom.

He was asleep, and I moved closer, unable to stay away. For years now, Ranger had broken into this very bedroom and watched me.

Now our positions were reversed.

I was fairly certain that in those visits he'd made, I'd never been sucking my thumb though. His lashes were dark and so long they brushed his cheekbones. He looked so young, so innocent. Vulnerable.

He broke my heart.

And had been for far too long now. I sat on the foot of the bed and wondered how this was ever going to be okay. "I'll take care of you," I promised softly. "I swear it."

"Babe," came an almost unbearably familiar voice behind me.

"Ranger!" I gasped, and turned and flung myself at him.

He caught me up in his big, strong arms and I burrowed in, my face to his throat, catching the wonderful warm Bulgari scent of him.

On the bed, and in his sleep, Little Carlos snuffled a bit, and Ranger pulled back from me to look, cringing at the nightlight.

From Carlos came a soft sucking sound as he worked that thumb.

Ranger stared at himself in disgust. "Tell me I'm not sucking my thumb."

"You're adorable."

He just shook his head. "Fuck, it's going to take me years to repair my image with you."


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: So this is it: the final chapter. It is a very long chapter … and we almost broke it into two. But we felt that it stands best as one single chapter, so you get all of it today. Thank you again for reading and reviewing. It means a lot!

* * *

**Chapter 4**

We stood there for some time simply watching the boy sleep. I was able to mostly ignore the squishy feeling it gave me to imagine this was a snapshot of an impossible future—a future that would include Ranger and me looking in on our child as he slept.

As if he could read my thoughts, Ranger's low voice grumbled, "Did the little shit scare you off from ever having my love-child?"

I gave him a small smack to the center of his chest. "He's not a little shit. That's _you_ lying there!"

He pulled me in closer, a gesture I'd like to think was made out of overwhelming emotion, but more likely he was trying to render my hands immobile. Whatever.

"Tell me he hasn't done anything completely pussy." Ranger said as he guided me out of the bedroom.

He tugged me down on the couch, my hips in the V of his thighs, my ear pressed to the warmth of his chest. "By pussy, you mean…"

"Rocked in the corner, sniveling for his mommy. Picked his nose and ate the results. Pissed his pants…"

I suppressed a smile. "There was no sniveling. He is a very brave boy." I rested my chin on my fist and looked up at him. "But if you're a retired nose-miner with bladder control issues, now is the time to tell me."

The left side of his mouth kicked up a fraction. "I'm pretty sure all kids pick their noses. I'm 99 percent certain I never-"

I cut him off with a hand to his mouth. "Good to know. Batman isn't a booger-eater. How about the bladder issues?"

His focus turned inward as he ticked through his memories, his eyes alighting when he found one worth sharing. "My brother and I received beanbag chairs for Christmas one year. Mine was black and Roberto's was lime green. He coveted my beanbag and often bullied me out of it. As you've seen, I was very small for my age and my mother forbade me from biting siblings after a somewhat bloody incident in 1982."

I snorted. "Good to know you had _some_ social parameters."

He smiled and continued, "One day I decided enough was enough. The Transformers was coming on in less than five minutes and it was a new episode. That black beanbag was _mine_. Roberto swaggered in, stood in front of me a cracked his knuckles."

"Don't tell me-"

"I stood up, unzipped my pants-"

I slapped both hands over his mouth. "If you're about to tell me you peed a circle around your beanbag-"

Ranger shook his head as if I was missing the point. Tugging my hands off his mouth, he grinned and said, "How would _that_ deter him? I had to mark my territory. Render my coveted _superior_ throne unusable by my enemy."

Wow. I'm pretty sure I should be repulsed, but the fact that Ranger had shared a childhood memory—a potty memory no less—left me speechless. Okay, maybe I was a little repulsed.

He pulled me deeper into his chest and murmured into my hair, "I've told you before I don't share." He slipped his hands under the waistband of my jeans and traced along the path of my thong with two nimble index fingers.

I pushed up off his chest and hissed, "Well you're sharing airspace right now with a minor!" My wriggling didn't deter him one bit. One of his hands had dipped low between my legs and I bit his collarbone to suppress my moan.

"No biting," he whispered into my neck as he laved a long line from my jaw to my ear.

I pinched at his nipples through his shirt to make him stop and told him, "I'm not your sibling."

Ranger tugged my thong to one side. "Thank Christ."

And then we heard the pop.

The scent of Christmas cookies filled the air, and then, "_Seriously_?"

This from Diesel, who was suddenly there, hands on hips, where only a minute ago had been thin air.

"I mean, Christ, you people have a minor in the next room!" Shaking his head and adding a tsk-tsk, Diesel vanished into my bedroom.

He returned a minute later carrying a sleeping Carlos.

"What are you doing?" I asked, coming to my feet while attempting to surreptitiously straighten out my thong. Damn Ranger! I shot him a long look before turning back to Diesel and Carlos. I felt odd about him taking the little guy, all these protective urges were coming over me.

"I'm going to fix everything, so hang tight." Diesel hesitated. "And don't do anything stupid while I'm gone."

Ranger gave him a very dark look.

"I was talking to her." Diesel gestured with his chin in my direction.

"Hey," I said. "I don't do stupid things."

Both men just looked at me.

"Very often …" I moved closer and put a hand on Diesel's bicep to lean in and gently stroke the hair from my little Ranger 7.0's face. God. Just looking at him had my heart clutching. I kissed his cheek and whispered, "Please don't hold the whole two guns and a knife thing against me."

Both men gave me an odd look and I sighed as Diesel popped out.

Then Ranger pulled me back onto his lap. "What's this about the two guns and knife?"

I pressed my face to his neck, not wanting to tell him how I'd screwed him up.

He gently gripped my curls and tugged until I was looking at him. "Babe."

"I ruined you!" I burbled out. "I took you to the office and Lester showed you his guns and knife—"

"And porn."

"Ohmigod, I'm so sorry!"

"Babe."

He was laughing, I could feel his chest shaking, and I smacked him. "It's not funny. It's my own fault you that you won't have a relationship with me!"

He went still, laughter gone. "Steph."

Oh great, my name.

"Stephanie."

My full name. Even better.

He forced me to look into his dark eyes. "You were amazing with him. With me."

"How do you know?"

"Because I know you. And trust you." He paused a moment and whispered, "Because you love me in spite of who I grew up to be." And then he kissed me, long and wet and deep.

He wasn't mad. He was okay with me loving him. He—

"I love you back, Babe."

He loved me back. No qualifiers. I melted over that, and while I was still wondering where all the bones in my body had gone, he slid his hands into my clothes. "What are you doing?"

"Following Diesel's suggestion."

I was confused. "He said don't do anything stupid."

"Babe, there's nothing stupid about what I'm planning on doing."

Oh boy.

Before I could blink, my shirt was unbuttoned, my jeans unzipped, and Batman appeared to have more hands than was humanly possible.

And his mouth. Good Lord, his mouth. He knew just how to use it, and in less than two minutes, I was begging. But the thing about Ranger … he couldn't be rushed. No, he liked to take his sweet ass time driving me crazy, and I was well on my way when we heard the pop again.

"Oh for the love of Christ," Diesel muttered, still holding a sleeping little Carlos. "Is this ALL you people do?"

I jumped up with a startled shriek. Ranger rose too, and shielded me from view, helping me straighten my clothes while Diesel stood there with his hand over little Ranger's eyes—

Wait a minute. Why was he back?

"What happened?" Ranger asked him, in total control of himself while I was still breathing like a lunatic.

"Funny you should ask," Diesel said. "I popped the little guy back into your childhood bedroom. But I must have had the time messed up."

"Explain," Ranger said, the master of one-word commands.

"Well, little Carlos met teenaged Carlos, having some … 'private time' with a skin mag."

Ranger didn't move.

I didn't either but my mind went there, picturing the scene.

Diesel lay the boy down on the couch. "I've erased THAT memory for the kid but Jesus, I wish I could say the same for myself."

Not me. I wasn't sure what it said about me that I was getting a kick – and maybe a little turned on – thinking about what Ranger had been caught doing.

"Babe," he said.

Damn ESP.

Ranger let out a barely there breath. "What now?" he asked Diesel.

"I've got one more thing to try, but you're not going to like it."

"It can't get worse," Ranger said.

I all but blubbered, "It ALWAYS gets worse. Have you learned nothing from me, Ranger?" I looked around the room in panic. "Quick! Knock on some wood. Wait. That might not be enough. Throw some salt over your shoulder." I hustled to the kitchen, saw that I was out of McDonald's salt packets and came back with a five-pound bag of sugar. Holding it open in front of Ranger, I said, "Do it. It looks the same."

Ranger just smiled a soft smile at me, took the bag, rolled the top closed and set it gently on the table. Then he looked over toward the couch. Carlos was awake. Probably he heard my tirade. Not my fault. I'm Italian; we're not a quiet people.

Everyone in the room held their collective breath. Carlos stood up, stepped towards me somewhat hesitantly and reached for my hand, all the while keeping a wary eye on Ranger.

I suddenly remembered that Ranger had said that he couldn't risk the boy seeing him. I tugged the boy's hand and brought Carlos into my chest to shield his vision. My little perv didn't put up much of a fight. In fact, I could have sworn I heard him inhaling my cleavage.

"Babe."

"What? He can't see you! You said-"

Diesel unwound my arms from the boy. "We're cool. I have to erase the whole thing before he goes back anyway."

"Didn't you do that the first time?"

Diesel scowled down at the boy—who clearly knew me—and said, "Huh."

"Are you kidding me?"

"I'll try harder next time," Diesel promised.

Just great. My cross to bear in life is to be saddled with an otherworldly surfer slash unmentionable, and the one I get was in the bottom of his graduating class.

Carlos tugged on my shirt and asked, "Are you okay?"

I laughed. It was that or cry. "I'm fine," I assured him. "How about you? You're the one having the rough day."

He shrugged his shoulders and eyed Ranger again. Crap. I have to introduce Ranger. To himself. Burg etiquette had no precedence for this.

"Uh, Carlos … I'd like you to meet my friend Ranger."

"You mean _boyfriend_," Carlos said sullenly.

I glanced at Ranger and he offered nothing except double raised eyebrows asking if I was going to alter my introduction.

Rat bastard.

Ranger stepped forward and squatted in front of Carlos. "I'd like to thank you for taking care of Stephanie today. I appreciate it, man." Then he held out his fist for a knuckle bump.

Carlos stood a little straighter at the commendation, bumped his little mocha knuckles against Ranger's and said, "If she were _my_ girlfriend, I wouldn't leave her out of my sight, even for a minute. She's real pretty and from what Mr. Lester says, she gets into a lot of trouble."

Ranger barked out a laugh as he stood. "I'll take that under advisement."

Turning to Diesel, Ranger asked, "What's the plan?"

Diesel had been smiling through the awkward introductions but his expression became much more serious at the question. He waved a hand at the kitchen table indicating we should all have a seat.

"I've had some time to think-"

"In the six minutes you were gone," I interjected.

Diesel gave me squinty eyes and continued. "We've got the boy and we've got the man. I don't think the trick is to just place the _boy_ where we assume he should go, but to take him _and Ranger_ to the place where both the boy _and the man_ existed on the same day."

Huh?

Ranger was blank faced and Carlos was flicking his eyes back and forth between the two men, clearly trying to figure out what the heck they were talking about. I knew exactly how he felt.

Both existed on the same day? What the Hell did that mean? What day is a person both a boy and a man? Most men I know are more boy than man their entire lives … well, excluding Ranger. Okay, this is Ranger we're talking about. At some point he had to go from the adorable scrawny seven year-old sitting on my left to the amazing, beautiful man on my right. What day would he have gone from a boy to a …

"Oh, _Hell_ no!"

"Babe?"

"I'm not gonna pop with you people to the sweaty backseat of a Chevy Cavalier! That'd be worse than what the poor kid saw not ten minutes ago!"

Ranger said with pride, "_That_ loss of innocence happened in Miami in my grandmother's basement."

Nice. That was _so_ not on my need to know list.

Carlos piped in, "What are we talking about?"

The three of us simultaneously answered, "Nothing."

Carlos sat back with a dejected 'humph'. Guess he didn't like being excluded from the story of the loss of his own virginity.

Ranger looked long and hard at Diesel and said one cryptic word: "War?"

"I don't think so," Diesel answered gravely. "I don't know for sure, but my gut says it was before you enlisted."

"Fuck."

"Hey! He said a swear!" This from Carlos.

Ranger's face went from blank to mildly amused in a heartbeat.

Diesel had us all stand again in the middle of the living room with our hands joined in a daisy chain. Ranger flat out refused to hold Diesel's hand. He swore it wasn't homophobia, just that Diesel made him itch. This opened a whole line of questions about 'what's homophobia?' from Carlos and it took us five minutes to get him to drop it.

So we stood there quietly, holding hands in a circle, waiting for something to happen. To say we looked bizarre was an understatement of epic proportions. I know because I peeked.

"Steph!" Diesel barked.

"Sorry." I closed my eyes and Ranger squeezed my hand.

Both Rangers.

And then there was that pop again but this time it also sounded in my head, and for a beat I couldn't see or hear anything but the rush of the blood pumping through my body.

When I could see, I realized we were standing in our circle in a … ghetto. In the hazy moonlight I could make out abandoned buildings and tall chain-linked fences running the length of the properties, with razor wire on top. Instinctively, I shift closer to Ranger, awed by the airy silence.

"I blocked everything but the locale," Diesel murmured softly as he laid his hand against a light pole. The bulb looked to have been shot out ages ago but at his touch, there was a buzz and the broken-out bulb glowed anew. "There's no one else here."

Didn't make me feel any safer. There was an air of … menace here. Violence shimmering just beneath the surface. I could hardly drag the thick, heavy air into my lungs, and it tasted weird.

Like a scary dream weird.

Or bad memories.

Little Ranger tightened his grip on my hand and I pulled him into me. We stood near the mouth of a deep alley and turned to Ranger, realizing he hadn't said a word or moved. I mean Batman was silent a lot, but this was silent on top of silent, and was odd for even him. Maybe he was in his zone. Like when he drove …

But he wasn't.

He stood there, tense and taut with the same memories the alley held, and my heart caught. He was actually pale, looking like maybe he might be sick. For years, he'd been comforting me with nothing more than a touch, so it was instinctive to try to do the same for him. I put a hand on his back and looked down the alley too, trying to see whatever he was seeing.

At my touch, he closed his eyes briefly, then gave me a barely perceptible head shake.

This wasn't anything I could comfort him through, and I wondered … what would he have had to have done here, in this spot, to become 'a man' in this alley. God. While I'd grown up in the 'burg, sneaking out of my parents house to hang out with Mary Lou and talk about boys, Ranger had …

Had done whatever he'd had to do to survive living on these streets. Had he killed here? Possibly to appease a gang?

And as though he'd heard my thought, he said, voice low and serrated, like the words cost him dearly, "No, it's what I _didn't_ do here."

My throat closed at the look in his eyes, the regret, the pain, and I knew. There'd been a killing here, and for whatever reason, he hadn't been able to stop it.

"You can forgive that boy," I told him quietly. "Forgive yourself. After all you've done in the years since, all the good … let it go, Ranger."

Again, he closed his eyes and shook his head.

"You'll need to take the boy to the spot," Diesel told him quietly.

Carlos's grip tightened to almost painful on my hand. I dropped to my knees and did what felt right. I hugged him to me and probably squeezed the crap out of him. "I'm going to miss you."

Carlos held tight. "Don't give Joe his key back."

I laughed and cried at the same time. "And you, you keep your back to the wall, okay? Stay aware of your surroundings, and poaching is almost NEVER okay, but … there may be a time in your life when it is … and—"

"Steph," Diesel said, eyes on Ranger. "Wrap it up."

I cupped little Ranger's face. "—One last thing. If you love a girl, _really_ love a girl, be patient with her. And—" I almost told him to remember condoms but it didn't seem right. Julie was meant to be. "Be safe." I squeezed him one last time until he squeaked. "Just be safe."

Carlos stepped back when I released him but his eyes remained locked on mine. Diesel came over, squatted in front of him and said, "I'm gonna do that little mind press thing like I did last time, okay? I promise it won't hurt. Then you're gonna walk over to where Ranger is and-"

Carlos didn't even glance at Diesel as he talked. He just tipped his chin up, held my eyes and said defiantly, "I'm _not_ gonna forget _her_."

I heard Ranger swear softly as Diesel said to Carlos, "You do what you gotta do, man."

Diesel placed his hands gently on either side of Carlos' head and closed his eyes. The boy's eyes stayed open and honed on me. This went on for minutes. Diesel dropped his hands and told Ranger, "The kid's strong. He's blocking me."

Ranger shrugged as if to say, _what do you want me to do about it?_

Diesel sighed and said to the boy, "I need you to let go."

"No."

"Shit."

Carlos grinned.

Looking pained at what he was about to say, Diesel said, "I'm gonna tell you something important, so listen up. You're gonna grow up hard and fast. You're gonna take a lot of wrong turns, but those wrong turns are in exactly the right direction. You feel what I'm saying?"

"No."

Scrubbing his hands down his face, Diesel sighed. He glanced over at Ranger who was looking on with an expression of resignation mixed with pride. Diesel told the boy, "You're gonna grow up to be a … damn. You'll be a powerful man. Not just physically. Some people will fear you and all will respect you." Noticing that Carlos was still staring at me, Diesel added, "And you'll win the love of a woman just like Steph. I promise."

Carlos corrected, "Not a woman _like_ her. _HER_."

Diesel shook his head and grinned at Ranger before looking down at the ground and muttering, "Shit." He blew out a sigh and looked back up at the kid. "If you're very lucky, perhaps. But it will take some time. And patience. And none of it can happen unless you trust me. You need to let go."

Carlos' eyes met Diesel's then, fearless and demanding. "I'm not gonna forget _her_." More softly he said, "I feel like I'm not supposed to."

Diesel sat back on his haunches and looked up at the eerie night sky as though communing with unseen forces there. The clouds until now had been still, lifeless, ominously dark and mostly obscuring the stars. Now they were dancing, churning, rolling forward and drawing back in waves.

Then they stilled once again.

He looked back at the child and said, "Okay. I can make you a deal."

Something sparked in Carlos' dark eyes at the word 'deal'.

"What's the deal?" the boy asked, hopeful.

"You let me into your head to do what I need to do, and in exchange, I let you keep a piece of her."

Which piece? Are we talking a lock of hair or an entire appendage? I really liked my appendages where they were and I'm pretty sure Ranger did too.

Carlos looked just as confused as me so Diesel explained, "You'll meet her again and … you'll feel her. When you're grown up, you'll … you won't know why, you won't remember any of this, but here," Diesel placed his hand in the center of the boy's narrow chest, "you'll feel her. It will confuse you but she'll already be here. It'll just take some time for you to accept it."

"How much time?" Carlos asked.

"I don't know, kid. You are a bit stubborn."

Worrying his lip between his teeth, the boy tipped his chin down and looked at Diesel's large hand. Then he nodded once, resolute.

"Deal?" Diesel asked.

"Deal," the boy whispered back.

It only took a moment for Diesel to resume their previous position and for the mind press to be complete. Diesel stood and nudged the boy toward Ranger who was still waiting at the mouth of the alley. I was a little sad that Carlos didn't so much as spare me a backward glance, but I took it as a good sign that whatever Diesel had done this time to suppress his memories had worked.

When the boy was about a three feet from Ranger, he hesitated. I wasn't sure if he was more afraid of Ranger or of the alley. With his memories erased I was sure Ranger was an imposing figure to be confronted with. And the alley itself put off such terrifyingly morbid vibes, even I could feel them crawling on my skin and coating my tongue.

But he was brave.

He shuffled forward and took Ranger's outstretched hand. Ranger said something to the boy and though I couldn't hear it, I knew instinctively what he said.

_Proud of you_.

The rest of the scene was obscured by some stupid water in my eyes. The next thing I knew, there was a palpable _pop_ and Ranger was stepping from the alley alone.

I ran forward and almost knocked Ranger to the ground on impact.

Closing his arms around me he whispered, "Babe," into my hair.

Blotting my tears on his t-shirt, I muttered, "I just realized I sent you home without your underwear."

He froze for a moment, then chuckled. "I'm not gonna ask."

"He took a shower and he said-"

"Christ. The clean underwear thing?" At my nod he said, "Don't worry. Mama never checked for that kind of stuff. The not coming home without your underwear is my rule … just for you."

I looked up at him. "How is that fair?"

"Life isn't fair, Babe." He cupped my face and just stared into it for a long beat, as if memorizing my features.

"You're not going anywhere," I said, gripping him tight.

"Not without you." He looked up at Diesel and gave an almost imperceptible nod.

Diesel grinned and then there was another pop, and then I was still standing in Ranger's arms, his hands on my face, but the alley was gone.

Diesel was gone.

We were on a deck in the shadows with a sliding glass door behind us, and a long stretch of moonlit beach below of us. "Where—"

"Disappointed, Babe. Thought you'd know."

I looked at the beautiful house, at the glowing whitecaps of waves crashing onto the shore, and smiled. "The Batcave."

"Got it in one."

"So this is … forever?"

"Or until we kill each other."

I grinned. "You're so romantic."

He began to strip, and when he was gloriously naked, he stepped forward to work on _my_ clothes.

I attempted to wriggle away while I peered over the edge of the deck. "Is this a private beach? What are you doing?"

"Going to show you romantic."

Gulp.

Several hours later, we were laying in bed with me half sprawled across Ranger, our legs entangled. He was toying with a long lock of my hair, winding and unwinding the corkscrew curl on his finger while I watched the ocean sunrise through the glass doors across from the bed.

"Ranger?"

"Mmm?"

"Do you think what happened yesterday was fate?"

He was quiet for long moments before he answered. "I'm a free will kinda guy. Not a big believer in fate."

I turned from the view outside and looked up at him, at his beautiful sleep deprived face, his silky dark hair spilling over the crisp edge of the pillow. "Even after yesterday?"

He tucked one arm behind his head and I tried not to drool at the way that action made his bicep bulge. "Especially after yesterday. Everything that happened was and example of choices, of free will."

I sputtered, "I didn't freely _will_ Lester carte blanche over your advanced adult education!"

He gave me all 200 watts, and had I been upright, I'd have melted into a puddle at his feet. Surely I'd be immune to that smile eventually.

Ranger clasped me a little tighter and said, "I heard the things you told the boy. You could have told him to join the Peace Corps. You could have told him gangs are bad. You could have told him to never have sex without a condom-"

"You wouldn't have Julie," I answered softly.

He leaned up, cradled my face and kissed me so deep and so slow I nearly lost consciousness.

When he drew back, he whispered, "And this is why I love you."

Sigh.

I found my fingers tracing over the smooth contours of his chest, the sharp little peaks of his nipples, the rippled hills and valleys of his abdomen. Following behind my fingers with my lips, I spoke into his chest, "If Diesel popped in here with Ranger 29.0, don't think I wouldn't take advantage. Two of you would-"

In an instant I was beneath him, his muscular thigh pushing between my knees. He murmured into my neck something that sounded suspiciously like, "Information to the enemy…"

And then I lost all my thoughts. Ranger was good like that. And really, I was only teasing him.

Mostly.

The truth was, I was ruined. Deliciously, inexorably ruined. I loved it. Loved him.

And he was right all along.

One Ranger was all I'd ever need.


End file.
